I'm Not a Dessert!
by Sodium Slug
Summary: Ever wondered what Cornelius Fudge’s childhood was like? How about Professor McGonagall, Hagrid or Moaning Myrtle? See key events in Fudge’s life at Hogwarts both good and bad, personal and historical. Watch Fudge become the person we know now. ABANDONED.
1. Little Cornelius

**Disclaimer: **Obviously, most of these characters are JK Rowling's, not mine. Also, thank you to MinervaEvenstar, for letting me use her title.

**I'm Not a Dessert!**

**Chapter One: Little Cornelius. **

His name was Cornelius Fudge, and it was his curse. The first eleven years were by far the best in his life. Coming from a rich, pure blooded family, he had all that he could ever want. Practically every night as she was hugging him goodnight, his mother would tell him about the day he was born.

"Your father and I were getting on in years, and so far we'd failed to have any children. Oh, we tried, believe me we tried. I was pregnant five times before you were born, but each child had died in a miscarriage. We were so afraid that we wouldn't have an heir to carry on the legacy of the Fudge name. In fact, we were so worried by the time I was pregnant with you that I spent at least four months at St. Mungo's, just so I could be there in case something went wrong. I can't tell you how happy we were when you were born." On and on she would go, until little Cornelius was fast asleep, lulled there by her quiet but persistent voice.

While their smothering attention could be irritating at times, it was definitely in his best interests. He was spoiled rotten. The Fudges had quite a substantial bank account at their disposal and never saw reason to deny their son anything he asked for. By the time he was five, he had his very own broom. Not only that, it was a Cleansweep Three, the newest model. True, it was under all sorts of safety spells to keep him from getting hurt (Just because he'd survived long enough to be born didn't mean he was there to stay) but he was the only kid on his block with such a topnotch broom and that's what mattered. Cornelius would never be a big Quidditch fan, but there was something just so appealing about flying through the air with nothing to worry about. Except for falling off, that is.

But little Cornelius was never truly greedy. Though he fully appreciated everything his parents bought and took advantage of their generous natures to keep him happy, as he grew older he tried to keep his requests limited to the weeks before his birthday and Christmas. He came to understand that money doesn't grow on trees, and that someday the Fudge's river of money would run dry. His parents had made it clear that he was the sole heir to all of their wealth, and he wanted to make it last.

He'd made a friend in elementary school named Pamela. Her mother had gone to school with Cornelius's mum, though her father was a muggle. They were casually playing House in Pamela's bedroom one day, when Cornelius learned his first real lesson about money.

"_I'm home, darling," Cornelius called, sweeping into the room. Pamela looked up from her plastic tea set. _

"_You just left. You can't come home yet, Sally hasn't even left for school," she scolded. _

_Cornelius frowned. "Can't we just skip that part? It's boring." Pamela fervently shook her head. _

"_It's important," she insisted. Cornelius rolled his eyes, but agreed and left the room. He hung around by the door for a while, but soon tired of it. He began to wander around the house. It was a strange house; a mix between magic and muggle. Cloaks and robes filled the basket outside Pamela's room, but just down the hall on the kitchen table sat a typewriter. Drawers were littered with quills and ink, but right along side them were pens and pencils. A telephone decorated the wall and across the room sat the owl cage with a rather skinny owl resting inside. _

_It was a small, cozy house, nothing like Cornelius's sprawling mansion. He wandered into the kitchen to see if he could sweet-talk Pamela's mother into giving him a snack. But before he could reach his destination, a hissing whisper caught his ear and he froze. _

"_What do you mean you got fired?"_

"_I mean I got fired. I lost my job. I came in late to work one day too many, and he up and fired me." Cornelius recognized the voices as those of Pamela's parents, but they were not the cheerful upbeat voices he was used to. _

"_So how do you intend to pay for Pam's education? Her schoolbooks? Her robes?" _

"_And what makes you so sure she's going to Hogwarts? I haven't seen her performing any magic, maybe she's a muggle."_

"_We'd still need to buy books and clothes for her!"_

"_Her clothes are fine."_

"_And Christmas is coming up! What are we going to tell her? That Santa Claus is taking the year off?" His eyes widened as he listened. It sounded as if Pamela's family didn't have even enough money for Christmas. _

"_We'll think of something. I'll get another job."_

"_And FOOD! HOW ARE WE GOING TO SURVIVE? YOU BLOODY WELL _BETTER_ GET ANOTHER JOB!" Pamela's mother broke into a scream and Cornelius decided he was done 'working' for the day. He headed back up to Pamela's room, trying to flush what he'd heard from his ears. If this is what happened to people with no money, he was determined to make millions and keep what he had already. _

When he got to be eleven and the letter came in the mail saying he'd been accepted at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, he was thrilled. It wasn't as if there was any doubt, but if felt good to have everything official. He hurried over to Pamela's to see if she'd gotten a letter as well, but was met with disappointment. Pamela would never be able to do magic. Cornelius knew at once that their friendship couldn't survive this difference, though they resolved to stay fast friends and play nonstop through the summers. There were always owls to keep in contact, after all.

So the train ride to Hogwarts was bittersweet. He was about to begin a new and wonderful chapter of his life, but he would be alone in doing so. He knew no one at his destination and had no idea what the school had in store for him.

A/N: So I suspect I might come back and change this chapter a bit. See, I don't know exactly where I'm going with it, and I might have to change a few key things about little Corny's childhood. Tell me what you think so far! And thanks to MinervaEvenstar again for letting me use one of her awesome titles.


	2. A Train, a Friend, a House, and Enemies

**Disclaimer: **Obviously, most of these characters are JK Rowling's, not mine. Also, thank you to MinervaEvenstar, for letting me use her title.

**I'm Not a Dessert!**

**Chapter Two: A Train, a Friend, a House, and Enemies**

Halfway through the train ride, the door to his compartment slid open and a young, dark haired boy poked his head in. "Can I sit here?" he asked quietly. Cornelius nodded and gestured toward the empty seat across from him. "Thanks."

There was an awkward silence between them. The new boy spoke first. "My sister threw me out of her compartment. Said she didn't want to be seen associating with a scrawny First Year. Is this your first year too?" he asked eagerly.

"Yeah. Cornelius Fudge," he introduced himself, holding out his hand as his mother had taught him. The strange boy smiled gratefully.

"Alphard Black," replied the boy, shaking Cornelius's outstretched hand. After finding acceptance in each other, the conversation began to flow more easily. As they drew closer to the castle, the conversation began to steer toward Hogwarts as well. "What house do you think you'll be in?" Alphard asked.

Cornelius squinted his eyes as he thought. "I don't know, really. My dad was in Slytherin, but me mum was in Hufflepuff. I haven't really thought about it."

Alphard snorted with laughter. "_Hufflepuff?_" he laughed. "I certainly hope you don't end up there. It's where all the rejects go, you know."

Cornelius drew back, shocked. "No, it's where the kind and caring and loyal go," he cried.

"Anyone who's anyone is in Slytherin," Alphard replied with another snort. "Everyone in my family has been put there."

"So I suppose you'll be in Slytherin too?" Cornelius asked quietly.

"I better be." Before Cornelius could reply, there was a knock on the door and a tall, older girl with a long dark braid and square glasses poked her head in.

"The train will be arriving at Hogwarts in fifteen minutes, you'd better change into your school robes," she sang and ducked back out. Cornelius looked at Alphard, who shrugged.

---

A few minutes later, the train was pulling into the station and everyone was filing out. Cornelius gasped as he looked out over the lake and saw the castle. His parents had described it for him millions of times—even shown him pictures—but nothing compared to the real thing. It was simply breathtaking. Towers stretched up into the clouds and the sun shone cheerfully down from overhead, sending bright glints over the dark lake.

A tall body slammed into him from behind and shoved him aside. He tripped and would have fallen to the ground if Alphard hadn't grabbed him around the shoulders and helped him keep his balance. Cornelius looked to see who had bumped him, and found himself looking at a female version of Alphard.

"Hey Walburga," Alphard called to his older sister. She simply sneered in response and took the arm of another dark-haired girl. They hurried over to the horseless carriages waiting a few yards away. Before they climbed in, a younger looking boy ran over and pushed between them, laying an arm over each of their shoulders. Cornelius started after them, but was pulled up short by his new friend.

"First Years go over in boats," he whispered.

Sure enough, within ten seconds, a deep voice could be heard booming over all the commotion. "FIRST YEARS FOLLOW ME! ALL YOU FIRST YEARS, COME DOWN TO THE BOATS!" They hurried after the man and climbed aboard a boat.

In no time at all, they were approaching the castle doors. "I can't believe we're going to be here for seven years," Cornelius whispered.

"I know. And by the end of this year we'll know our way around," came Alphard's reply. Cornelius shuddered. He knew he was bound to get lost a million times before the end of the year, and he wasn't looking forward to it.

---

"Ackerley, Jonathan." A scrawny little boy with light hair stumbled toward the stool sitting at the front of the room. He placed the large, faded hat over his head. The hall was silent.

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat called loudly, and the group at one of the middle tables cheered as the boy took the hat off and tottered toward them, a grin on his face. Cornelius gulped.

"I'll be put into Slytherin," Alphard repeated quietly, more for his own benefit than for Cornelius. "All Blacks are put in Slytherin."

"Would it be so bad if you were in a different house?" Cornelius asked in a whisper. "Maybe you're braver than the rest of your family. Maybe you'll go to Gryffindor." That was probably about the worst thing he could have said.

"I don't even want to find out what my family would do to me if I didn't get into Slytherin. They might even burn me off the family tree, for all I know. _No Black _has _ever _been in _any other house._" He began to shake Cornelius by the shoulders to drill his point home.

"Black, Alphard." Alphard, oblivious, continued to shake Cornelius.

"I _have _to be in Slytherin!" he chanted, almost to himself. "I _have _to be in Slytherin."

"Black, Alphard?"

"…_have _to be in Slytherin. I _have _to be in Slytherin. I _have_–"

"BLACK, ALPHARD!" Alphard's head jolted up upon finally hearing his name, and he hurried toward the stool with the hat. Laughter could be heard from more than one table.

Cornelius watched as his friend slid the hat over his head. After a long silence, the longest yet, during which Alphard's face became more and more pale, the hat shouted out "SLYTHERIN!" and relief was plainly visible in the boy's eyes. The Slytherin table clapped as he hurried toward them.

Now with no one to talk to, Cornelius peered out into the Great Hall. It was a huge room with four long tables filled with students. One large bloke at what appeared to be the Gryffindor table caught his attention. Actually, large would probably be an understatement; this kid was positively enormous. He was at least twice the height of anyone around him. His long, shaggy mane of hair was horribly tangled, and even from across the room Cornelius could see bits of cobwebs infested in it, as if he had perhaps recently inserted his head into a giant spider web.

"Fudge, Cornelius." Cornelius drew his attention back to the sorting when he heard his name, and hurried up to the hat. Unlike his friend, no trace of fear could be seen on this boy's face. Personally, he didn't care what house he was placed in, though he figured he'd be in either Slytherin or Hufflepuff. He placed the hat on his head eagerly.

_Ah, I remember the name Fudge well. Your father was in Slytherin, was he not? _The hat was talking to him.

_Yes, _he thought. _And me mum was Hufflepuff._

_Aye, I remember her as well, _the hat went on._ Nearly went to Gryffindor, that one did. But I think elsewhere for you. Hufflepuff or Slytherin. You have the bloodlines for a Slytherin, though not all Slytherins have pure blood. You have ambition, too, and a need for wealth. But I detect a loyalty and quietness about you as well. You grew up with a muggle, did you not? I think the house more fitting would be _"HUFFLEPUFF!" he screamed the final word for the whole hall to hear. Fudge lifted the hat from his head and walked over to the cheering Hufflepuff table.

He took a seat next to a tall, skinny boy who had smiled at him as he passed. "Hey there mate, welcome to Hogwarts," the boy greeted him. "My name is Gordon."

"Cornelius," Cornelius replied, sticking out his hand politely.

Gordon chuckled. "That's a bit of a mouthful for someone your age, isn't it?" he asked. Cornelius shrugged. "I think we'll call you Corny," the boy exclaimed, taking the offered hand and shaking it warmly. "Welcome to Hufflepuff, Corny."

Cornelius smiled weekly. He'd always gone by Cornelius. But having a nickname did help him feel slightly more at home in his new, strange surroundings.

A girl approached the Hufflepuff table to the sound of Hufflepuffs cheering, and Cornelius realized that she'd just been sorted into his house. He smiled, grateful for a name in the first part of the alphabet. Sitting on this bench surrounded by new housemates was certainly more welcoming than standing in side room anxiously awaiting a sorting.

The ceremony dragged on and on. When the sorting was finally finished and the feast had been consumed, Gordon and a girl from the opposite end of the table stood. "Everyone follow us, it's time to head down to the dorms!" called the girl. The Hufflepuffs stood and followed the two prefects out of the main hall with Cornelius right at Gordon's heels.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Alphard Black walking behind him. "So, _Hufflepuff," _Alphard sneered. "Aren't _we _Mommy's little boy?"

"I–" he began, but the dark-haired boy cut him off.

"You know I can't be friends with a Hufflepuff, I'd never hear the end of it. We Slytherins have our reputation to keep." He slapped Cornelius across the back, somewhat sympathetically. "Sorry, mate."

He strode away, and Cornelius blinked back tears. Looking around, he realized that the rest of his house was long gone, and that he had no idea where the Hufflepuff common room was. He turned back to the Great Hall, to ask a teacher where to go, deeply embarrassed that he hadn't managed five minutes before getting hopelessly lost.

A/N: Aww, poor wittle Fudgey. Anyway, tell me what you think. I'll get the next chapter up soon. Thanks for reading!


	3. A Truely AMazeing School

**Disclaimer: **Obviously, most of these characters are JK Rowling's, not mine. Also, thank you to MinervaEvenstar, for letting me use her title.

**I'm Not a Dessert!**

**Chapter Three: A Truly A-Maze-ing School.**

"Down the staircase to the right of the main stairs and stop at the cellar door," a kindly looking old man with a long white beard explained. "Your password is 'Dragon's Breath'." Cornelius thanked the old man and hurried out of the room and toward the stairs. He found the door to the room with ease and spoke the password.

"Dragon's Breath," he stated, hardly daring to breathe himself as he hoped desperately that it would work. The door swung open and he exhaled with relief. He stepped carefully into the room and the door closed behind him.

"There you are, Corny," came a cheerful cry from across the room. Gordon stood up from the chess boards and made his way over to Cornelius. "Sorry we lost you out there. Didn't notice you were missing until we got here."

"That's alright, I got directions and found my way just fine," Cornelius reassured him.

Gordon grinned. "Well then, I'll fill you in on what you've missed. You know that I'm Gordon Rundquist. The girl I was playing chess with is Olivia White. We're the Hufflepuff prefects." The young boy followed as the elder made his way over to Olivia and sat in the chair he had been sitting in before. He gestured at a nearby chair, and Cornelius sank into it. He was surprised at how tired he was after sitting all day, but he supposed the stress and excitement were taking their toll. Gordon kept talking. "This is the common room. That door there," he pointed, "leads to the first year boys' dormitory. You'll sleep there." He grinned. "And that's about all you need to know for now."

"Thank you!" Cornelius was genuinely thankful for the help and hurried toward the room Gordon had pointed to. "Goodnight!"

He found five beds upon entering the room. At the foot of the bed on the far end he recognized his trunk, and he hurried to open it. Pulling out some parchment, a quill, and his Charms textbook for a hard surface, he laid down on his bed and started to write a letter.

_Dear Pamela,_

_Hogwarts is a beautiful place. All the pictures I've seen and the stories I've heard do not begin to do it justice. Merlin, I wish you were here though. You would love it, with all the beauty and mystery and, well, if you were here, I'd have someone to talk to, too. I got placed in Hufflepuff, same as mum, and the people seem nice enough from what I've seen. But I miss you already, and I know it's going to take some getting used to. They call me Corny here. Apparently Cornelius is too long for them. _

_Anyway, how is life back home? Mum says that you've transferred to a muggle school now that you can't go to Hogwarts. How is that? Is it any different than Ciderdale?_

_SOS! (Send Owl Soon) _

_Your best friend, _

_Cornelius _

Carefully blotting his letter and setting it aside, he rolled over onto his back and sighed. How he missed his childhood friend. If only she were here, they would be talking their heads off, eager to go explore their new surroundings.

He was suddenly struck with a fit of rage for Pamela's parents. Why did her father have to be a muggle? Why did her mother marry _him? _A muggle parent made the chances of a wizarding child much slimmer. It was his fault that Pamela wasn't a witch; it was his blood that made her muggle. Cornelius resolved then and there to marry a witch so his children could attend this beautiful school.

But then he remembered Pamela, whom he had always imagined growing up with and eventually marrying. Tears filled his eyes, and he buried his head in his pillow. His life had been turned upside down by that man who had the audacity to be Pamela's father.

---

When Cornelius awoke the next morning, he found that he had fallen asleep in his robes with his Charms textbook clutched in his arms. He pulled himself off the bed and ventured toward the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he found that his eyes were slightly red and puffy from crying. He pulled on some clean robes and returned to the dorm to see if anyone else was awake.

He found four boys that had come in after he'd fallen asleep, and they were all sound asleep now by the looks of it. He sighed and decided to find the owlery on his own, to send his letter to Pamela. He pulled the map from his acceptance letter out of his trunk and took a good look at it. It would be a long walk, but it was early yet and Cornelius wanted to deliver the letter before breakfast.

As he opened the door to the common room, one of his sleeping roommates shifted in his bed. Cornelius stood silently, hoping he hadn't woken anyone. Much to his dismay, the boy in the middle bed sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Where am I?" he mumbled, not quite awake. Cornelius wandered over.

"Hogwarts," he reminded the boy. His eyes shot open, and he ran a hand through his ragged blonde hair.

"Right," he muttered as he reached for the pile of robes next to his bed.

"I was just going to try to find the owlery," Cornelius whispered. He didn't want to wake anyone else, but as long as this boy was up he'd be glad for some company. "Would you care to join me?"

The boy's eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically. "Sure, just give me a minute to get dressed," he cried softly and ran for the same bathroom Cornelius had just vacated. "My name's Martin Cox, by the way," he called in a carrying whisper.

"Corny Fudge."

---

The trip didn't go nearly as smoothly as Cornelius had planned. Instead of ending up at the top of the West Tower, where the owlery was located, they'd ended up in some other tower on the west side. They knew they were lost when one of the portraits opened up and a girl with a horrible case of acne popped out dressed in Ravenclaw robes.

She nearly ran them right over, her attention clearly elsewhere. "Oh!" she cried upon seeing them. "Can I help you?"

"We were looking for the owlery," Martin explained softly when Cornelius didn't answer. He was too busy staring at the girl in awe. Aside from the acne and a rather thick pair of glasses, she was beautiful. Things felt as if they were clicking into place in his brain, and everything seemed right.

She laughed. "That's a rather ambitious destination for your first day," she pointed out. Cornelius nodded dumbly and Martin blushed slightly.

"It was his idea," he said, pointing at the silent boy. Cornelius turned red with embarrassment.

"I… C-can you help us f-find it?" he asked, stuttering. She smiled sweetly.

"Sure. I was just heading there myself," she said cheerily and draped an arm around each of their shoulders. Cornelius grew redder and Martin shot him a strange look.

"I'm Martin and this is Corny," Martin said, deciding to introduce Cornelius for him, since the poor boy looked incapable of speech at the moment.

"Myrtle," replied the girl. "Third Year."

A short walk later they'd arrived at the owlery, where Cornelius found his owl and tied his letter to her leg. "Pamela Dungits," he told the bird, and she flew off to make the delivery.

"Pamela Dungits, eh?" Martin asked with considerable volume to his teasing voice. "So you've got a _girl _back home?" The Myrtle girl glanced their way in interest, biting back an amused grin at the mortified expression on the boy's face.

---

A/N: Thanks for reading yet another chapter. The next few might be a bit slower in coming, as I have quite a bit of summer homework to do over the next week. Be sure to review; both complements and criticism mean a lot to me!


	4. A Familiar Cast

**Disclaimer: **Obviously, most of these characters are JK Rowling's, not mine. Also, thank you to MinervaEvenstar, for letting me use her title.

**I'm Not a Dessert!**

**Chapter Four: A Familiar Cast**

I wouldn't say _girl… _Cornelius stuttered. "More like… a best friend that happens to _be _a girl." He glanced nervously over at Myrtle, who pretended to be absorbed in tying her own message to her owl so she wouldn't further embarrass him. He was so awkward she would never have guessed he spent any time at all around girls. She found his discomfort extremely cute though his attraction came as somewhat of a surprise. She was all too aware that she was not a pretty girl. Olive Hornby made that clear every chance she got.

"Uh huh. Right," chuckled the lighter-haired boy.

Myrtle smiled enviously at them as she sent her owl off to "Mum and Dad's". These boys had it so easy. They could tease each other, and everything was fine. They were young and innocent and didn't yet care about how they looked to others.

"Sending letters home already?" came a high, disdainful voice. "What's the matter? Are we _homesick?" _Myrtle whirled around and came face to face with the very girl she'd just been thinking about. Olive Hornby.

Fudge, thinking the comment had been addressed to him, lowered his head and ran from the room. Martin quickly followed, but not before hearing more. "Oh, so now we're coddling the ickle firsties, are we? Starting fresh, with…" Her voice faded as Martin hurried to catch up with Cornelius.

Meanwhile, Cornelius was tearing recklessly through the halls. He heard footsteps pounding in the hallway behind him and turned down this corridor and that, trying to throw the girl off his trail. He was so concerned with the noises behind him that he didn't notice those in front, and he ran straight into the girl from the train who'd told them to change.

She stumbled backward and grunted in surprise as the First Year Torpedo appeared out of nowhere and smashed into her.

"'scuse me," Cornelius muttered, pulling himself off the floor and beginning to run again. Before he could escape, the girl grabbed his arm and held him still. He struggled against her grip, but she was stronger than he was.

"What's up?" she asked soothingly, sensing his distrust and anxiety.

Cornelius tried to break free of her grasp once again and stuttered "S-she's coming. She's g-going to make f-fun of me." The tears he'd been holding back began to flood his eyes, and he buried his face into the girl's robes.

She let him cry for a moment before lifting his chin so she could see his face. "Who's going to make fun of you?" Her voice was kind and understanding and he felt like he could have been talking to his mother. He looked at her, taking in her cat-like appearance and long black hair. It was braided, as it had been on the train the day before, and it fell past her waist.

"I don't know," he sniffled, wiping tears from his eyes.

Just then, Martin ran around the corner, finally catching up. He took in Cornelius's tearstained face and smiled sympathetically. "She wasn't talking to you, mate," he said. "She was talking to Myrtle."

"Really?" He grinned sheepishly. "Oh." He felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him as he realized he had been crying over nothing to someone he realized was a total stranger.

"My name's Minerva McGonagall," the girl spoke up, as if reading his thoughts. "Head Girl. It was wonderful chatting with you, and if you ever need help with anything, I'll be glad to assist." She smiled and patted him on the head before continuing to wherever she had been headed before Cornelius had clobbered her.

It was only after she'd gone that he realized he hadn't told her his own name. But it didn't really matter; she was only doing her duty as Head Girl and probably wouldn't care.

Martin was looking at Cornelius funny.

"What?" Cornelius asked, uncomfortable and still embarrassed.

"Corny. Do you realize that you were just crying your eyes out in the arms of the Head Girl of Hogwarts?" he asked.

"You make it sound like an accomplishment. She was really nice to me." Cornelius frowned. Martin shrugged.

"Well, we'd better get down for breakfast. What time is it?" Martin expertly changed the subject.

In answer to his question, a loud bell rang through the school, alerting them that they had twenty minutes before their first class.

"Skip breakfast," suggested Cornelius as they looked at each other in alarm. "What class have you got first?"

"I don't know!" wailed Martin. "We get our schedules at Breakfast!"

"Then we'd better get down there!" cried Cornelius, breaking into a run.

When they reached the Great Hall, they found it nearly empty. The Headmaster approached them with a few pieces of parchment. "What are your names, please?" he asked in a pleasant tone.

"Fudge."  
"Cox."

He handed them their schedules and hurried to the next couple of people who had just arrived as they thanked him.

"What do you have?" Cornelius asked again.

"Transfiguration. You?"

"Same. We'd better run." Cornelius acted on his words and began to run back the way they'd come.

Martin hurried to keep up. "But we don't know where we are, nor do you know where we're going!" he cried. Cornelius slowed to a quick walk.

"Good point." He pulled out his map and studied it. "Look, it's the floor we just came from," he said, pointing. "Now I remember seeing that statue somewhere. Oh, and that one. I ran past it earlier," he deduced, and they began to hurry down the corridors, tracing the path they'd taken earlier that morning.

"I didn't realize we'd taken so long at the owlery," panted Martin as they arrived at the door to the classroom.

Cornelius shrugged. "Or maybe it was me running around like an idiot that took so long," he suggested wryly.

They pulled open the classroom door and entered, taking seats near the middle of the class. No sooner had they sat down then the door opened again, admitting a familiar dark-haired boy.

"Fudge," he sneered he walked past, sitting at a desk on the opposite side of the room.

"Black," Cornelius replied, trying to sound as cold and arrogant as Alphard did. He thought he'd pulled it off rather well, but the boy just smirked. Martin raised his eyebrows, but before Cornelius could explain, another bell rang and the professor walked into the room.

He was an older man, with a long white beard and half-moon spectacles perched on his nose in a way that made him look important. His stance commanded respect and attention, and the class quieted immediately upon his arrival.

"Welcome to your first class of at Hogwarts," he greeted them. "My name is Professor Dumbledore, and I will be teaching your Transfiguration class this year."

As he began to summarize what they would be learning, Fudge listened with excitement and took notes on nearly every word. Or until he heard snickering from the other side of the room, that is. When he glanced over, he saw Alphard Black and his Slytherin friends sneaking glances at him and whispering. He heard Black whisper "yeah, Fudge. As in the dessert," to his friends' delight and amusement.

It had begun. Cornelius Fudge was now connected to food in the minds of all the Slytherins. And it wasn't a friendly connection either. From that moment on, innocent little Corny Fudge was known to Black and all his friends as 'Fudge' or 'Dessert'.

A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers! Your opinions mean a lot to me.

To Moongazer and anyone else thinking the same thing: In all honesty, I had very little idea of how old Fudge is in the books. I pegged him as being in his fifties or sixties, which would put him right in the middle of a very exciting time at Hogwarts. If he's actually much younger than this, I apologize, but please bear with me, as it would rewrite the entire storyline and all the characters if I were to change it.


End file.
